I Want

Two words. Simple. I was unable to say them without wrapping them in apology first.

I’ve been noticing something about the way I speak. The way I soften everything before it leaves my mouth. “I would like” instead of “I want.” “I was thinking maybe” instead of “I need this.” “Sorry” tacked onto the end of every request like an apology for existing.

How many times can one say sorry? What am I even apologizing for and who I am apologizing to?

I started asking myself: when did wanting become something I need permission for?

Because somewhere along the way, I learned that saying “I want” is aggressive. Demanding. Entitled. Rude, even.

But here’s what I’m realizing: we don’t just censor ourselves when we speak to others. We censor ourselves from ourselves.

The censorship starts long before the words form. It starts in the body, the moment a desire rises, and we reflexively push it back down because wanting feels dangerous.

The Internal Negotiation

Watch what happens:

“I want this” immediately becomes “but is that fair to ask for?”

“I need this” becomes “but maybe I’m being too much.”

“I deserve this” becomes “but what if I’m wrong?”

By the time we speak, if we speak at all, we’re not translating our truth into softer language. We’re speaking the already-softened, already-negotiated, already-apologetic version that survived our internal censorship.

We say “I would like” because we’ve already decided that “I want” is too much. We’ve pre-emptively made ourselves smaller before anyone even had the chance to say no.

Why We Do This

I think we’d rather not want than risk the pain of wanting and being denied.

It’s a protection mechanism. If you don’t let yourself fully want something, then not getting it doesn’t hurt as much.

But here’s what that costs:

If you can’t let yourself want, you can’t advocate for yourself. You can’t negotiate. You can’t build toward anything. You can’t know what direction to move in.

You become reactive instead of generative. You wait to see what’s offered, what’s available, what’s safe. And then you adjust your desires to fit what seems possible.

That’s not agency. That’s survival mode disguised as flexibility.

What It Cost Me

I spent years in a situation where I felt I didn’t deserve to want anything. So I didn’t even try.

I softened everything. Sugarcoated. Made myself negotiable before anyone asked me to. And my body started rejecting it. Anxiety in moments where I should have spoken up. Physical symptoms I couldn’t explain. A tightness in my chest every time I swallowed words I needed to say.

I told myself I was being reasonable. Accommodating. Low-maintenance. But what I was actually doing was slowly disappearing.

The Breaking Point

There was a moment, after years of this, where I finally said: I’m so over carrying this in my body.

I started practicing. Practicing acknowledging my truth. Leaning into confidence. Backing myself as my new hobby. Not performing it, but actually doing it. Letting myself feel the full weight of what I wanted without immediately negotiating it down.

Self-validation became more important than being validated by others. That’s what gave me my power back.

And then came the test.

Someone was rushing me into a decision. Pressuring me. And instead of accommodating like I always had, I stopped.

I said: “I feel very strongly about this. I’m going to communicate what’s really truthful to me.”

And then I did.

I said things I had never said. Things I’d been censoring for years. “I feel manipulated. I feel put under pressure. This doesn’t work for me.”

What Happened Next

At first, my body felt light. I walked down the hallway and I was bouncing. Actually bouncing. Because naming hard things without softening them felt like liberation.

But then the spiral kicked in. The worry. The fear. Oh god, is this going to fire back at me?

But I made a choice. I stayed calm. I validated my experience. It’s how I felt, so I had to communicate that.

And then she responded. She didn’t reject me. She didn’t get defensive. She opened. She said: “Thank you for opening up this authentic channel of communication.”

When You Stop Performing, Real Connection Becomes Possible

That’s what I didn’t understand before.

I thought sugarcoating was kindness. I thought softening my truth was protecting the other person.

But what I was actually doing was blocking information. I was keeping her in the dark about what was really happening and calling it protection.

When I finally spoke my actual truth (not the managed version, not the performance), suddenly there was real data to work with. Real communication became possible.

Uncensoring isn’t rude. It’s the only way real connection happens.

The Questions I Have Been Sitting With

Why does having desires, opinions, preferences often feel shameful?

What is it that doesn’t feel acceptable about having strong taste and knowing what we want?

Is the pure motivator fitting in? Keeping harmony, not causing friction?

How much life quality do we miss out on because we minimize our truth?

I don’t have all the answers yet. I’m still learning what it means to say “I want” without apology. To speak my truth before I’ve pre-negotiated it down to something palatable.

But I know this: my body feels different now. Lighter. More alive.

Because I’m finally learning that uncensoring isn’t about being difficult.

It’s about being real.

And real is the only frequency that creates actual connection.

Let go & let grow.

Yours sassily,

Liz